


Nightfall

by leogrl19



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Also: Storytime, F/F, Things getting REAL, Topped From the Bottom and Now We're Here, all the scars, round 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 19:07:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11168199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leogrl19/pseuds/leogrl19
Summary: The scars, seen; the scars, within





	Nightfall

**Author's Note:**

> If you’ll know anything about me, it’s that I *Adore* a good challenge — which is why I deliberately chose to do this installment in Vanasha’s POV. She isn’t simple; isn’t easy to write(LOVE)—how much *Harder*; to get inside that head….
> 
> Challenge Accepted.
> 
> The moment I found out, in-game, I’ve wanted to write something about Vanasha’s scars; the stories behind them — better yet: Doing so with Aloy, and adding her scars/stories, too. *Their* scars. (I may also owe someone a treat~).
> 
> Fair warning: This isn't a ‘pretty’ story. It won’t be ‘comfortable’. It will be Authentic. So, if you’re looking for fluffy, warm ‘Easy’, well~ You’d best keep looking.

* * *

 

“Where did you get that scar, little huntress?”

Vanasha smiles.

(Off-balanced)Aloy looks up from the felled boar; downed by a well-placed arrow from her bow. A flicker of Turbulence— _Yanks_ ; the sturdy shaft, smooth, from its place beneath a shoulder.

Furrowed brows.

The look of a woman who simply does not Appreciate: _Turns_ ; she can’t suspect(—yet. Has to _Deal_ with it).

“Which one?”

“Above your right eyebrow.”

Squaring shoulders. The briefest pause( _Illuminating_ …). “I have a lot of scars. You tend to get them when fighting things that want to kill you.” Wry. Almost hostile. Watches: Her close. “What makes you think that one’s different from the others?”

 _Defensive_ , now—

 _Beams_. “How did you get it?”

The redhead crouches lower to the ground—leans in. To inspect the wound. “This was a good kill.”

 _Claps_ ; her hands together with veritable _Glee_. “ _That_   _thrilling_ an anecdote!”

Hazel eyes _sharpen_.

(Next, will be Silence— _stubborn_ , _pouty_ lips—If. She lets it go that far;)

They operate on a system of **Give** and _Take_.

(Decides: To Give.)

“It’s in an odd place.” (Lets that sink in)Vanasha slings her bow over a cant shoulder. Lessens: The space between them. “Particular.”

Neither the excessive blow of a machine primed to eliminate; or the claim of a vital to ensure a swift death….

(Cruel.)

 _Spiteful_ ;

The scar _whispers_ its tale.

(Vanasha listens)Smile, ebbing from her lips. “Whoever gave you that scar wanted to mark you.”

…Receives: Silence, regardless(—an _utter_ **Disregard** ; of their rules of engagement), the other’s finger and thumb warping the wood of the arrow, testily.

Such a puzzle. Such a: Conundrum…

This: Tightly bounded. Walking— ** _Contradiction_**.

( _Likes_ ; the woman because she’s so, very — _Interesting_ )

Some would say: “Unfair”.

Wanting to know— _Endlessly_ —about the people and world around her. Giving next to _little_ , of Herself, in return.

As though: **Attracted**. To the _Idea_ of human contact; but not the **Reality** of social obligation.

(Perfect. For the wandering ‘Hero’.)

Another smile. Vanasha shoos away branches with the point of her sandal; lowers to the ground—an _Equalization_ , of sorts—beside the other woman and crosses her legs.

Tilts her head: “And?”

(Truly. The other **_Should_**  Know, by _now_ , that the more tight-lipped she is, the more interested _she'll_ become.

Her **Life** is Excavating  _Secrets_ , after all….)

Is of the opinion, there’s a time and place for Silence—and the other has had too much of it.

Eyes like the Sun, peering through leaves, glance her way. Lips open and; Pause. “You know I was born in Nora lands. They… have outcasts; break their laws, you get banished. Cast out from the main settlements and forbidden from even _speaking_ with other outcasts.” Tucked fingers. The arrow  _curves_ ; “For however long _they_ determine your sentence to be.”

(Notes: “they”s and “their”s — like there is no Connection. A Verbal **Wall**.)Had come across, a few, 'outcasts'; in her line of work. “You were one of them?”

 _Scoffs_ —a **Savage** smile. “I was born one.” _Flex_. Jaw— _fixed_ ; as if holding _Truths_ , **Back**.

(Lets her)

Deftly Navigating. The **Lines** the other Draws.

“Title pretty much explains itself. Other Nora, following the laws, aren’t supposed to talk or interact with them—some even go so far as ignoring them completely. If they don’t want to face: ‘All-Mother’s’ Wrath.” Loosens. Her grip on the shaft; offers it to her. “I was a kid and another kid threw a rock because I wasn’t like him.”

Vanasha stares. Takes; the tendered arrow:

Adds it. To the bundle at her hip.

 _Thinks_ —

Neat.

Too ‘Neat’; for all that  _Hesitation_

(A half-truth. A _trick_. A Very Good one—Most would be _Satisfied_ —Who Could Ask for _More_?… But she’s Held: Many secrets,

 _Whispered_ : _Many_ )

Recognizes. When there's something— **Greater**.

“The ‘ _heartlessness_ of youth’, then?” _Taps_. A finger to her knee. “Or; was it ‘Validation’?” ( _Swift_ — **severe** brows; nostrils  _flaring_ ). Vanasha juts her chin to the boar. “Even animals are acknowledged when hunted… Better to be struck by arrows; _rocks_ —if it proves you exist?”

The redhead’s teeth, _flash_ , in warning(—and she’s _Close_ ); hands balled into fists in thick grasses. “Does it even _matter_?”

“My question? Or your scar?”

“Vanasha,” _Exasperated_.

“ _Little huntress_ ;” _lilts_ it; like a priest's hymn — her mouth rounds into an ‘O’. “ _Ah_.” _Smiles_. “You want to know me, but I can’t know you.”

Aloy huffs; rolls her eyes. “Because you’re as clear as glass.”

“Mm. In a way.” ( _Blends_ : Just as well.) _Clucks_  her tongue. “How _dreadful_. Being with someone: ‘Evasive’.” _Shifts_ —and turns her way. “What would you like to know?”

The other woman… _Falters_. Wide eyes( _Off-balanced_ ). Bites a lip and _snarls_ : “ _Everything_!”

Vanasha _Laughs_. “Then, _take_ it! Little huntress. Or did you need permission?” Almost, _coos_ (Such a **_Burn_** —in those eyes… _ **Scalding**_ ). “Just know,” crooks a finger; beneath the simple cord around her neck. “That I'll take the _same_.”

Aloy swallows(She **_feels_** it);

Looks to the ground.

Her head  _dips_. “Whoever would have thought; the Savior of the World, has a selfish streak…”

A slight frown. “That isn’t—”

“‘Isn’t’?”

Lifts her gaze. Surrenders: A _Complex_ mixture…. **Hard** eyes — _soft_ ; firm lips, _yielding_ …

(Realizes: The _**Lost**_. _Hates_ it—)

 **Accepts**.

And, she— _Watches_ ;

(Wants:

To **Give**.

 _Needs_. It to be through the proper— _steps_ )

“I threw the rock _back_.” Aloy breathes; through trembling lips. “He _felt_ _me_   _knock_  the one he grabbed, _next_ , from his fingers.” Sightless eyes. Seeing: A Different time. “Not just him—all of them—the others— _saw_ _me_ …I was Relevant…” ( _Light_ ; in those golden eyes she’s never seen…) **Returns**. Keeps; their gazes: Connected. “For that brief moment—I was their _equal_.”

(The **_Ferocity_** of that visage, says:

“ _Better_.”)

 _Sees_ :

(— _there_ , is her Answer.) “It made you who you are.”

Cradles; the other’s face into a palm and _draws_ the finger to her neck—forward.

(A _rush_ of _air_ — equal parts _Surprise_ and **Need** …)

Backs. To catch lidded hazel. “Is it terribly lonely?” Swipes; a pinky across parted lips. “Being: Accepted. By so _many_. Unable. To abide Them, in return.”

A _shocked breath_ ,

(Close—to _Terrified_ )

She: **Knows**. That Feeling. When she spies in enemy territories; welcomed: Into palaces; homes; circles; tribes…

Has had. _Countless_ _faces_ … Profess **Love** and _**Adoration**_ —and not know _Her_  at all.

(Doesn’t want that: **Here**.)

Another kiss: Higher. To the corner of that brow—before she sets bow and arrows, aside;

Rises to her feet;

— _jerks_. And _unravels_ … The knotted silk at her waist.

Catches: the intricate wrap.

“Uh,” —and the darling woman has the decency to _flush_! Freckles, darkening and melding, _Marvelously_ …. “What are you doing?”

A light toss; depositing the items with the others. “Adhering to the rules of our play—Naturally…” reaches; a hand, behind, to unclasp her necklace. “My turn. Little huntress…”

Gathers: the dark silk of her top,

Watches; eyes: **_Devour_** … Every _inch_  of skin, revealed…

(At her core: The woman is a woman of—slights. The fiery _flares_ ; the bright _outbursts_ — _Easiest_ ; to capture,

But. The details that matter; the details that— _Speak_. Are the flickers.

—the _slights_.)

Sees: A roaming gaze, rounding the curve of her breast— **Focused** (fighting; between _hurried_ and **slow** …). Brows dipped. Forever  _Curious_ …. And. Right beneath. The ‘proper’ Embarrassment, staining those cheeks —

 ** _Hunger_** …

( _Licked_ _lips_ ,)

Vanasha smirks. Casts the garment — Aside.

Knows  _Exactly_ : The Vision she provides…

Still.

“This isn’t the reward.”

— _Turns_ ,

(Smiles. To herself. At the tattered _gasp_ , the other can’t _Contain_

Doesn’t need—glass; to know the gruesome patchwork; the dense, colliding lines… _Jutting_ ; and _warped_ ; and _gnarled_ ;

 **Barbed** , **disfigured** _splotches_. Raised against flesh.

Only. Has — One word:

“Ask.”

“… _Vanasha_ …”

small.

“No, little huntress—that isn’t an option.” (Has: No _Interest_ or **Need** )Crosses her arms; _stretches_ … the scarred blades of her shoulders. “But, you have questions. So: _Ask_.”

… **Feels**. The other’s Proximity— _shift_. “…How?”

“I tried to escape.” Looks Ahead; to a stern, stooped tree. “Willful and unsatisfied—willing to die. If it meant ‘Freedom’ — and was caught.” A breath of laughter. “Funniest thing: I thought I would be killed, instantly. Apparently, my captors saw that line of thinking: ‘Wasteful’. Whipped me within an inch of my life; then summarily forced me to watch the deaths of my mother and father in that sacrificial pit of theirs.”

(… _Years_ , _now_ —

And she can summon the _Screams_ ;

the sharp  _whirs_ of Metal…)

“I begged. For them to kill me — I was the one who ran; I was the one who should be punished… Do you know what that slave-handler, said?” A cursory glance; over her shoulder. “‘Cripple the tool—Its mind will do.’.” Smiles. “The Sun deemed me: ‘Fit’ and ‘Serviceable’. It would be a disservice to execute such a commodity. But none at all; to murder its’ aging parents.”

The Price: Of **_Selfishness_**.

(One. She knows well.)

—Catches. The woman behind her — _Devastated_. Mouth, agape, with formless, broken things; lips  _stumbling_  over the _urge to_ —

Vanasha drops her arms; spreads them — _Wide_. “Look at them. Little huntress!” (Because—she’s _Misunderstood_ ): “You couldn't save me.” ( **Cruel**.)But a Point she intends to make **Well**. “I bled; and toiled; and _broke_ — and: saved myself.”

Closes her eyes; and _dips_  her head to a dying Sun.

(Pauses. To give the other a chance to speak—if; she has anything to say, at all.)

An ardent breeze. Leaves  _shivering_ …

“… _made you who you are_.” a whisper on the night-wind. _Tastes_ : The— ** _Shift_**.(A _quickening_ of flesh…) “I want to touch you.”

 _Wanting_  Permission(—but those feet are already _moving_ )

Smiles: “So why aren’t you?”

 _Anticipation_ …

( _Reins_ ; in the _shudder_ )A calloused **stroke**.

Rough fingers( _Excruciating_ _gentleness_ ); run the length of her scars. Take. The **Time**. To _marvel_ and _chase_ ….

“You're so beautiful…”

 _Husked_ ;

(Has heard That word—many times; from as many _Mouths_ )

Could: Melt in Aloy's embrace. Lock eyes, demurely—Summon, swayed tears…

_Endless possibilities_

(In her mind: A perfectly crafted response. To gain **_Any_** result.)

Decides. To: _Improvise_

The _purest_ expression.

Takes the woman's arm and pulls her to soft grasses.

Straddles a waist;

 _Nips_. The beauty mark on her _neck_ …

Aloy—gasps; _shivers_ …. _Yields_ : a ground-out sound. Between whimper and groan.

Vanasha withdraws; peers down. Into heated gaze. “Those scars… Made me who I am, but don't define me.” A **Distinction** ; so many, often — _Miss_. “I don't give them that power. Their only purpose: Reminding me what I'll never go back to.” _Flips_ : Their positions. Props an arm to _graze_ ; the other’s mark. “And, you? Little huntress. Not 'outcast'; not ‘savior’…" _cocks_. Her head. “What will _you_ be?”

“Right now?” Blunt nails, _catch_ ; on the braided cords, spiraling her arms.(And there’s **Something**   _In_  those hazel eyes—something that swirls like **_Madness_** ….) “ _Yours_.”

(— _Hits_. **Harder** ; than she would ever Admit,

Thinks: The woman is _Learning_ …)

Beams: “What a coincidence!”

 _Leans_   _further_ ; to run a tongue down corded muscle; scrape— _teeth_ ; along a throbbing pulse point…

( **Feels** : the other— _strive_  to be _Closer_. Attempt to discern her through layers of animal hides and metal)

 _Jerks_ : a string of feathers, roughly.

“It’s come to my attention, you aren't naked…” _murmured_ ; into the _Soft_. Where neck meets chin: “If this ends with me half-disrobed, beneath you—I will be _very_ disappointed.”

“Can’t have that.” Aloy flashes a grin—rolls off her; and begins to dismantle her armor(— a task, made  _Quicker_ , with two sets of hands —)

 **Discards**. What little remains.

Lies back; into cradling grasses. Crooks a thigh and rests a wrist, atop;

Extends: two fingers;

Gives her a **look**.

—Is met with  ** _Vigor_** — the same sense of _Conquest_ , given to **_Any_** _Challenge_ (Can’t. _Quite_ mask the _Pink_ ; in flushed cheeks). As Aloy kneels, astride,

 _Lowers_ (a _Sharp_ _breath_ ); unto offered fingers and mounts toned flesh.

Vanasha sighs. _Flexes_. Makes: An _appreciative noise_  in the back of her throat, from how thoroughly— _Obscenely_ — _Wet_ , the woman is. Thighs, _glistening_ , in the golden rays of dusk.

Begins to — _rock_ ;

(A _Hard_ swallow — _Pants_ )Hips, _arcing_ , with her.

 _Starts_ :

(Her  _Undoing_ …)

The other's armor is an **Extension** — when she dons it—She is:

'Queller of the Derangement'; ‘Guardian of Meridian’; 'Vanguard of All-Tribes’,

(—without it: ‘Alone’.)

Stripped. _Agitated_ ; and Looking for Meaning.

( **That**. Is _who_  she puts on an altar. Worships and gives:

 _Attention_ )

“ _Vanasha_ …" shortened breaths; wanting it to— _Last_.

"Aloy." (A violent _tremor_ ; that travels  _through_ _her_.)

— _Stretches_. And adds a third finger.

A short, wanton cry.

(Oh, yes…)

 _I see you_.

 **Assumes** : The personal privilege. Of lying back to _Watch_ (They _make_. A Beautiful Contrast…). _Letting_ ; the other— ** _Take._**   _Her pleasure_ ….

(Opposite. Of all she knows.)

—Isn't showy. A performance of _howls_ and _shrieks_ — (Can still tell she **_Feels_** it…). Weighted breaths, and chewed lips and hooded eyes — that try, _so_ _hard_ , not to look _away_ …

Given: Years. To develop confidence in **Skill**.

(No one, at all. To affirm: _Appearance_.)

Fingers plunge **_Deep_** , wanting _All of Her_ in that moment;

 _Jolts_ ; the thigh— _fast_ —with the _toss_ of addled hips.

(Savors:  _Slick heat_ — the _broken_ _syllables_ — As Aloy, draws _taut_ , as her _bow_ )

…Lifts; from ground—when those eyes become  _needy_ ;

Golden(On the precipice of **Greater** )— _begging_ to be _Close_.

Draws her: _In_. _Meets_ the _crash_ of aching lips—the _ragged_ _push_  of her name. Calloused hands, wrapping her back( _spreading_ _across_ scars); hugging and grasping, as she _quakes_ and _falls to pieces_

( _Rippling_ walls—pulling her in)And, she: _Revels_ :

(…the rough lines of  _Years_  in other scars; the way those muscles  _Coil_ for her...)

…Brings her down:

( _ **Back**_ ).

Only for  _lips_  to _Reach_. Fiercely— _ **Take**_ ; yet again.

The other possessing: A _Consuming_ energy…

Slow. Budding confidence—

 _Knowing_  what it **Wants**.

Licks; her lower lip, lightly. _Sucks_ it in — catches with _teeth_ ; until: Loosed. With an  _idle_  pull.

Vanasha _hums_ (smiles); impressed. “You’ve gotten better at that.”

A **_Fire_** ; no less abated. “Here’s something else…”

Pulls away( _Effort_ ), and slides between her thighs.

Can't help; the peal of laughter — the _Sigh_ … _tumbling_ , after;

Finds herself, _settling_. In the embrace of grass.

(Body: Is **Simple**.) A series of actions; to gain Expected Result.

(She appreciates: the _Climb_ )….

 _Drinks_  in; the sight of the other:  _Needful_ , between her legs. Has to **Keep**  the image in her mind; neck — _snapping_ , in an arch,

 _Offering_ : A moan.

(So many things; learned by _repetition_ —

The woman, below, an especially _quick_  pupil….)

“ _Little huntress_ …” ( ** _Gives_** her that)As the pleasure _builds_ ; _blinds_ — _takes_  her… And the fading light of the horizon  _Fills_ her vision.

_Spills_

( **Feels** : _Murmured approval_ …)

Vanasha's legs _curl_ ; (heels digging _deeper_ into soil)before lifting to hook, around her. One hand: Continuing its _claw_  at supple earth; the other — to fiery strands, braids and wooden beads; _guiding_ — _turning_ ,

(Lips suckle; the hidden nub—that _melts her senses_ — _just_ the way she showed her)

Hips; _stuttering_ — _arcing_. Off ground

 _…_ _flares and unravels_ ; **bodily**  and slow.

(Like  _tumbling_ through the soft soil. Even as she lies: Still.)

Exhales: _Appreciatively_. At the smooth  _warmth_ spreading through…

_Everywhere_

Aloy retreats. _Drags_ ; a tongue on her way  _up_ ; every ridge of her abdomen.

(The woman, nothing, if not _Attentive_ ….

 **Enamored**.)

 _Nuzzles_. The crook of her shoulder. “You,” _breathy_ and  _amused_ , “have a very elaborate way of telling me I’m wrong.”

Vanasha smirks: slow. Flicks; a shoulder. “I like it.”

 _Laughter_.

(And that’s Special. Often Hears: chuckles and scoffs—in **Abundance** —but, Laughter, _rare_.

Knows: **She’s** Lost. When she notices):

Like how the corner of that mouth, _tugs_ , _Stronger_ ; when the smile is Real.

Aloy turns on her side; twines their legs. “I don’t want to lose this.” (Such **_Fierce_** vulnerability… It leaves her wanting for the next breath…) “Keep telling me. I’m stubborn, so I won’t always listen, at first—but, tell me anyway. Tell me: When I’m being an idiot. When I’ve fallen below your expectations.” **Furrowed**   **brows** ( _Shifts_ : impossibly closer). “Keep telling me; so I can keep you.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Little huntress… ” _runs_ ; a finger. Over crumpled brow. Until it: loosens. “And I’ll inform when you're being an idiot—whether you ask it or not.” The other chuckles, soft and low. (And she: _surveys_ —the quiet  _Ease_. Between them.) “I believe: We've only just started. Begun, to delve; the hidden places…." Trails: a bump of a scar; knotted against the sweat-slicked skin of a throat. "I don't have the answers you're looking for — never had this to lose… never, once, thought to share it." An _inch_ ; and their foreheads: Touch. "All I know; is, now. There is no path back."

Closes her eyes(kisses.  _Pressed_  to her jaw); and breathes in: 

Twilight.

Anticipates. Their Dawn.

**Author's Note:**

> Still Butthurt you couldn't properly throw that rock at Bast...  
> For those curious: Aloy(was)wearing the Banuk Sickness Eater Heavy armor, because it’s AWESOME and GORGEOUS and I need my girl to keep up with bae.


End file.
